


edge of summer

by hurryup



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Threesome - M/M/M, Vignette Sequence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 09:08:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10850847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurryup/pseuds/hurryup
Summary: "You'd better quit standing around," Allen teased, throwing his head back to look at Link. "I want the both of you, and if you let Kanda have his way, there won't be anything left of me to share."(Three boys, one Manhattan apartment, and a ferocious heatwave. Maybe not your typical summer romance, but just as good, if not better.)





	edge of summer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nea_writes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nea_writes/gifts).



The city was shuddering and heaving under the oppressive summer heat. Outside, down the fire escape winding around the apartment complex, black garbage bags were baking on the sidewalk in high piles. Bluebottle flies— whose fat, buggy eyes saw everything and more— hovered grotesquely about the mess. These were a citywide infestation, leading to a public effort to poison them. This effort ultimately backfired, as the poison killed barrelfuls of pigeons, too, and their steaming, rotting corpses were frightful to step over in the streets.  
  
New York was in full swing for a tepid, ugly summer.  
  
_"No point in leaving the house at all,_ " Allen had said, lounging about Link's apartment in barely nothing, sucking a popsical partly because he wanted it and partly because he knew it'd drive Kanda crazy. _"I mean, it's too hot to get anything done at all, really. You agree, Kanda, don't you?"_  
  
Kanda hadn't agreed at all, initially. He hated to be housebound, hated spending these heavy summer days restless and stagnant. Allen was, however, quite persuasive once he started taking off his clothes.  
  
_Impressively_ persuasive, really, though Kanda would never admit it out loud.  
  
The bed frame rattled and the springs shrieked as Kanda jutted his hips forward. Allen's moans ringing out as he groped, somewhat blindly, to clutch at the headboard above him with both fists. With every shallow thrust, Kanda pressed worshiping kisses across the back of Allen's neck, into his hair, groaning with a shiver when Allen tightened around him.  
  
Allen’s voice carried from him shamelessly, loud and wanting and filthy. He'd never really been one to hold his voice back, neither prone to embarrassment or overly concerned with his own propriety. Kanda didn't seem to have any complaints, letting out a hiss in response to Allen's moan. His next thrust came in harder, taking Allen roughly, claiming him, until Allen was begging between breaths.  
  
“Fuck,” Kanda breathed, voice roughened raw. In a display of affection so subtle you might have missed it if you didn't know to look for it, he wrapped one hand on top of Allen's, squeezing it with something that felt very much like reassurance. “Keep talking, Allen,” he growled, a borderline threat. “Come on, let me hear you. Tell me how much you've been wanting this."  
  
"So much," Allen gasped. He sounded completely overwhelmed. Supernally. Ecstatically. _Gone._ "Please, Kanda— God, feel so full, _oh_ , I need—"  
  
Kanda gripped Allen’s hand and buried himself to the hilt, working shorter thrusts over the spot inside of Allen that had his voice pitching higher. The sensation curled Allen’s toes, pulled at his trembling muscles.  
  
Although Kanda couldn't quite see Allen's face, he could imagine his expression perfectly: eyes shut as if in concentration, lips pursed, eyebrows drawn. The mental image was sexy enough that Kanda was tempted to flip Allen over just to confirm it. He resisted the impulse. There would be time for that later, and besides, he could fuck Allen all the deeper from behind.  
  
"I'm so close," Allen choked out, clutching at the headboard so tightly now that his knuckles were white. "Make me come, Kanda, _please_ —"  
  
Kanda bit his lip, but it did nothing to restrain the aching sound that shuddered from him. He dropped his free hand from Allen’s hip, red crescents left in the wake of his grip, and took Allen’s cock in his fist. He squeezed him hard, roughly, stroking him in time with his own pounding thrusts.  
  
_"Kanda!"_  
  
Allen came with a high, breathy little cry. It was, perhaps, the most singularly erotic sound Kanda had heard in his whole life.  
  
_It's a shame,_ Kanda thought hazily, shutting his eyes to meet his own release, _that Link wasn't around to hear it._  
  
Allen collapsed almost immediately, releasing his vice-grip on the headboard to sink down onto his stomach, elbows braced against the mattress. Kanda joined him on the bed, sliding out of Allen with a hiss and lowering himself to rest on his side, dizzy and breathless and, ultimately, satisfied.  
  
They did nothing but kiss, at first; long, desperate kisses neither of them truly had the breath to sustain. Lips on lips. Running on fumes. Buying soft kisses at the price of sweet, life-affirming air. They stayed like that for a long time, winding down, gathering themselves, naked and sated in the heat with the sheets rumpled beneath them.  
  
Allen was the first to speak, drawing away from Kanda's lips to curl up against his chest.  
  
"I kinda want a smoke," he said.  
  
Kanda rolled his eyes, giving Allen a sharp jab to the side. And people complained that Kanda was unromantic.  
  
"If you have to, take that nasty habit outside," Kanda said. "Link will gut you if he smells it."  
  
Allen whined softly and rolled onto his back, head lolling against the sheets. He moved with an unselfconscious comfort, unashamed of his nudity. Not that he had anything to be ashamed of. He was gorgeous, all soft skin and slender limbs, shining ever softly with the slight sheen of sweat.  
  
"I don't want to put clothes on," he complained, fanning himself. "Too hot."  
  
"Then put a robe on."  
  
"It's too hot for that, too."  
  
"Then go out naked," Kanda said, exasperated. "See if I care."  
  
Allen cracked one eyelid open and lifted his hand to his mouth, faux-scandalized.  
  
"Think of the _children_ , Kanda."  
  
"I am," Kanda pointed out gruffly. "One child in particular, actually. A lazy, spoiled brat who refuses to put his damn pants on."  
  
Allen closed his eyes again and hummed, snuggling ever slightly against Kanda's side. There was a somewhat musical lilt to his voice. "If I'm your child, does that make you my daddy?"  
  
"I should beat your gay ass," Kanda said. Infuriatingly, Allen just grinned, warm and sleepy and content, his bare body pressed against Kanda's.  
  
"Oh, my, are you threatening to _spank_ me?" He asked coyly, winding their legs together. Kanda groaned.  
  
"I swear to fucking God—"  
  
Kanda leaned over to smack Allen with a pillow, and Allen snorted, dissolving into graceless laughter. Little shit.  
  
Distantly, between Allen's quiet laughter, Kanda could make out the front door opening, the sound of footsteps padding through the front hall. Link was home. Finally.  
  
Allen put his head on Kanda's chest. Kanda listened to Link shuffle through his apartment. Shoes coming off. The sound of his keys hitting the kitchen counter. Checking the living room.  
  
The sound of footsteps grew nearer and nearer. Then, the bedroom door creaked open. Link pressed inside, oblivious, still wearing his suit and carrying a plastic grocery bag in one hand.  
  
"Are you both here? I bought..."  
  
At the sight of Allen and Kanda, he trailed off, cheeks flaring up with an unmistakable blush.  
  
"Ah," Link stalled. He looked ten times more embarrassed than either Kanda or Allen, which seemed somewhat ironic, given that he was the only one still wearing his clothing. "I see you two have been... busy."  
  
Allen's eyes fluttered open. The light of blazing sun had turned his skin the color of honey, and as if to match, he seemed sweet, slow, and languid; a typical post-orgasm laziness had taken over him. He roused indulgently at the sound of Link's voice, watching the older man hover at the door with a fondness that Kanda felt acutely.  
  
"That's one word for it," Kanda snorted, stretching out his arms, both wanting to mask his pleasure at seeing Link and tempted to reach out and make it completely, eminently clear.  
  
Allen, too, seemed to be struggling with some internal conflict. One of a different, more shallow nature, Kanda realized. He was raking his eyes over Link, long and thoughtful. Kanda could practically see the deliberation there, the consideration, the question of: _"Could I go for a second round?"_  
  
Fucking beansprout. _Insatiable_ in every sense of the word.  
  
The answer to Allen's self-addressed question was, apparently, a resounding _yes_. Allen's eyes, once thoughtful, were now slyly hooding into an expression of playful seduction. His lips quirked into a suggestive smile, one that was nothing short of wolfish. Link, still carrying the plastic bag of groceries, quailed under this heated look.  
  
"Oh, Link!" Allen said, brighter than sunshine. He writhed against Kanda, trapping Kanda's hips under one long leg. There could be no mistaking it. He was flaunting his body off— every exposed angle and curve, every suck and bruise, the slightly wild mess of sex-mussed hair, the come drying across his stomach. "Welcome home. It's _hot_ out today, isn't it?"  
  
"I..." Link's eyes flashed away, a second too late, and he cleared his throat. He seemed to be fighting a losing battle with himself. His whole expression was wrought with poorly concealed want. "It's h— quite warm out there."  
  
Allen chuckled, something Kanda felt as surely as he heard. With Allen's laughter came a sweet, low vibration; it shook perceptibly against his chest, his shoulders, and radiated through him until it was crawling over his back.  
  
"It's hot," Allen repeated, enunciating very clearly. "So, why don't you come over here and loosen your tie?"  
  
Link flushed even brighter, and Kanda groaned, smacking Allen over one shoulder lightly.  
  
"You're not nearly as slick as you think you are," Kanda muttered.  
  
"What he said," Link echoed. He made the mistake of turning his head to meet Kanda's eyes, evidently liking what he saw a little too much and finding it an intolerable distraction. Poor little Link. What a burden, coming home to two beautiful, naked men in your bed. Boo-hoo. "It's not that I'm not, er, interested in these... proceedings. It's just that I should really be getting started on dinner."  
  
He made a halfhearted gesture to the bag of groceries in one hand. Allen rolled his eyes, shifting against Kanda again. He seemed to be enjoying the sensation of his slick skin riding against Kanda's and, best of all, enjoying the fact that Link was watching them.  
  
"It's too hot to be cooking," Allen said, glowing eyes on Kanda as he addressed Link.  
  
"Is it, now?" Link answered, a thrilling uncertainly snaring his words softer.  
  
"Absolutely," Allen confirmed, dead serious. "You'll roast yourself alive before the meal has a chance. Mmm. Nothing to do at all, really, but get in here and take your clothes off."  
  
"My God. You're absolutely _atrocious_ ," Link said. He covered his reddened face with one hand, overwhelmed. He addressed his next words towards Kanda, a note of fond humor creeping into his tone. "Has he always been this way?"  
  
Kanda shrugged.  
  
"If anything, he's just gotten worse."  
  
Allen pinched him, just to be square. Not to be outdone, Kanda growled, climbing on top of Allen to pin the younger boy against the mattress. Victorious in his surrender, Allen grinned all the brighter, laughing softly as Kanda arched over his body and nosed at the fresh marks on his neck and shoulders.  
  
"You'd better quit standing around," Allen teased, throwing his head back to look at Link. "I want the both of you, and if you let Kanda have his way, there won't be anything left of me to share."  
  
Kanda cast a glance back at the door, pinning Link with a smoldering look. Link was wide-eyed, now completely unable to keep himself from staring, plastic grocery bag at risk of slipping from his fingertips.  
  
"Just... give me a minute to put these away," Link demurred, just a little too hasty to sound cool. Quick as a flash, he disappeared from the door, and Kanda could hear the hasty sound of him padding through the kitchen.  
  
Triumphant, Allen let out a delighted laugh— one that was quickly cut off with a moan when Kanda's mouth claimed the sweet spot at the junction of his neck and jaw.

 

* * *

 

"Aren't you boiling in that shirt?"  
  
"What?" Link said, focus snapping away from his work and back towards reality. He turned in his chair to find Madarao leaning over his desk, who was frowning down at Link's the high, crisp collar of Link's shirt with a look of vague concern.  
  
"Long sleeves? On a day like this? I know you like to look professional, but you're going to give yourself heatstroke."  
  
"Oh, I'm not warm at all," Link lied, ignoring the persistent impulse to tug his collar loose. "I, ah, actually find it quite cool in the office. Really."  
  
"Oh, please. Don't bother making excuses, _Howard_ ," Tokusa said, appearing more or less out of thin air. He had a fabulous talent for appearing in Link's section whenever he was least wanted. "Your mysterious vampire boyfriend marked you up with a ton of hickeys last night, didn't he?"  
  
Link choked, feeling himself blush right up to his ears. Madarao, however, seemed satisfied by this response, as if it was the most reasonable suggestion. Which it absolutely wasn't.  
  
(Despite the fact that it was, barring some specific details, more or less true.)  
  
"Ah, of course. The elusive boyfriend," Madarao said. He brought his mug back up to his lips, speaking thoughtfully against the ceramic brim. "When, exactly, will we finally be permitted to meet him?"  
  
Tewaku appeared from around the corner, hefting a stack of folders that was grossly disproportionate to her tiny frame.  
  
"What are we talking about?"  
  
"Don't you guys have jobs to do?" Link hissed.  
  
"Link's boyfriend," Tokusa supplied, cheerfully ignoring Link's complaint. Tewaku's eyes lit up with a spark of interest that was downright dangerous.  
  
"Oh, _I've_ met Link's boyfriend," Tewaku said. Her voice began to take a somewhat dreamy tone. "I saw him last week by the front door, waiting for Link's shift to end. He looked like an absolute angel."  
  
At this, Tokusa scoffed.  
  
"You're kidding, right? I'd say he's more of a demon. Have you seen his death glare? He's got a death glare."  
  
Tewaku blinked in surprise. Link considered beating himself unconscious with his stapler just to end his misery.  
  
"You've met him?"  
  
"Yeah, I ran into him while I was dropping something off at Link's apartment. He was... very shirtless," Tokusa confirmed. The, he stopped short and frowned, as if processing what this information could mean for the very first time. "Hey, don't tell me you guys are already living together."  
  
Before Link could confirm or deny the accusation, let alone allow himself the time to even become flustered over it, Tewaku blessedly cut in. She looked downright bewildered.  
  
"No _way_ did he glare at you," she protested. She crossed her arms one over the other, standing resolute. "That boy is painfully polite. Shook my hand and gave me the sweetest smile you ever did see. A smile like the frickin' _sun_."  
  
Tokusa shook his head rapidly.  
  
"Nope. No way. I refuse. I refuse to believe that bastard is capable of human kindness," he said, sounding every inch as stubborn as Tewaku. Then, his expression relaxed, reconsidering his stance. "Good-looking, though. Saves his ugly personality. Gym body. Long hair."  
  
Tewaku rolled her eyes, exasperated.  
  
"Link's boyfriend has _short_ hair, you blind fuck."  
  
Link groaned and buried his face into his hands, too mortified by the whole situation to bother breaking the news that they were both right.  
  
Madarao, quietly amused by the whole situation, took another slow sip of his coffee. All the while, he eyed Link with quiet, intelligent suspicion.

* * *

  
 Link was a reader.  
  
It was something Allen liked about him, though he couldn't exactly relate. Fiction had never really held his interest. His public school education had failed to instill a passion for reading in him, and beyond that, he found reality to be far more compelling. Kanda seemed to agree, and he and Allen were united in their apathy towards the written word. Link accepted this without judgement. Sometimes, he would read in bed, quietly immersed in his little book while Kanda and Allen slept, played cards, whispered, bickered, and kissed.  
  
Still, Allen felt an odd kind of curiosity towards Link's books, partially because there were so many of them. Link's house was lined with bookshelves, all tidily arranged in alphabetical order and brim-full of volumes of all shades and sizes. Some of these were still sharp and pristine looking— unread or simply unloved— while others had cracked spines or pages that curled like hothouse flowers— old favorites. Link's was a library of the famous, the dead, and the famously dead; Woolfe, Bronte, Goethe, Sacher-Masoch, Lovecraft, Hemingway, Nin.  
  
Allen clipped his hair back and poured himself a lemonade, pacing the apartment and spying at the shelves. The heatwave hadn't yet broken, and the Link's AC did little to combat the sticky, heady warmth that stirred the whole world around them like a cotton candy machine. He'd been the first to get home today, and sifting through Link's collection was proving a satisfying time-killer.  
  
Link often left little post-it notes on the first page of his books, terse little reviews or reminders. Some of these little judgements were quite scathing. _'Absolute formulaic garbage,'_ one note read, which was absolutely hilarious in contrast to the lovely loops of Link's handwriting. Another note, stuck slim volume of poetry said nothing but, _'Second-rate.'  
_  
(Vaguely curious, Allen flipped it open and gave some of those second-rate poems a read. They seemed alright to him.)  
  
Some of Link's notes, though, had an odd poignancy to them. They were random, sometimes autobiographical, and Allen's favourites.  
  
Stuck in a war drama, _'Finished 05/07. Took Timcanpy to the vet right after. Nearly crashed my car on the way home, my mind was still stuck on the story.'_ In a paperback crime thriller, _'Dropped 20/07, Kanda was distracting that night. Can't remember the plot anymore. Can't complain.'_   In a slender, weathered book of short stories, _'Finished 01/08, read in one sitting. Reminded me of Allen.'_  
  
These notes had little do with the books themselves, Allen thought, but everything to do with Link.  
  
The sound of keys jostling the front door. Allen turned his head to follow the sound, making out the sound of both Kanda and Link's voices. Quiet conversation, a swear (Kanda), a sigh (Link), the handle twisting to open wide.  
  
Allen took one last sip of lemonade and went to say hello.   
  
_Sometimes, life can be pretty good,_ Allen thought to himself, twisting to trade kisses from between the both of them, caught between the intersection of their demanding bodies. _Just every now and then, of course. But sometimes.  
  
_

* * *

  
"Okay," Tewaku said, slamming her palm down over the surface of Link's desk. "So, listen up. We talked it out, and we've come to the conclusion that we couldn't have _possibly_ met the same guy."  
  
"So," Tokusa continued, rounding the desk to stand at Link's opposite side, effectively caging him between the two of them. "That just leaves us with one itty-bitty, teeny-tiny question. Which one of them are you _actually_ dating?"  
  
Link sighed, body locking up into a full-body cringe in anticipation of the conversation to come.  
  
"Both of them," he admitted.  
  
There was a pause. Whatever Tokusa and Tewaku had been expecting, it was apparently not this.  
  
"Both?" Tokusa echoed.  
  
" _Both_ ," Link repeated, morose.

"Like, both-both?" Tewaku said. Tokusa's jaw was somewhat in danger of hitting the floor, while her eyebrows were veering up somewhere near the ceiling.

"I know of only one definition of the word."  
  
"Huh," Tewaku said, withdrawing her hand in muted surprised. "I mean. Huh."  
  
"I know," Link agreed.  
  
"Bro _,_ " Tokusa said, sounding genuinely impressed. "You kinky _fuck_."

Link sighed. Again.  
  
"I'm not dignifying that with a response."

* * *

  
From the moment Link's apartment door closed behind them, it took them about ten minutes to end up in bed. Kanda was feeling particularly frisky, and while Link wasn't particularly submissive in nature, he was more than pleased to go along with Kanda's manhandling, accepting each groping, seeking touch with little more fight than a sigh.  
  
Shared kisses in the kitchen lead to Kanda's shirt coming off, led to the clumsy unbuttoning of Allen pants, palming him through his underwear, lead to a joint effort to undress Link head to toe. They left a trail of abandoned clothes all the way to the bedroom; socks, shoes, trousers, buttons and cuffs.  
  
“Save me,” Link pleaded as Kanda pinned him down against the bed. He writhed helplessly against the sheets as he addressed Allen, extending a slender arm, fingers fanning.

Allen smiled, crawling closer on his knees, close enough that Link's seeking fingers brushed over Allen's thighs.  
  
"What, and be snared myself?" Allen asked, playful and warm, reaching to stroke through Link's damp hair as Kanda began to suck his way down Link's body. It was a strange thing to watch them. Allen felt both jealous and not, transfixed by the sight in front of him. There was an odd rush in watching Kanda and Link get caught up in one another, all the while knowing that both of them would, in a heartbeat, be devouring him just as thoroughly.  
  
He took the moment to sort his feelings out, all the while watching Kanda's mouth move down over Link. Licking down his twitching stomach. Leaving bites at the V of his hips.  
  
Allen wasn't typically one to play the voyeur. Usually, he liked to be in the thick of things, taking one or even both of them whenever it was feasible. Today, though, he found himself savoring the opportunity to watch.  
  
The image laid out before him was... transfixing, to say the least. What Kanda's tongue lacked in tact, it made up for it in deft cleverness, and Allen had the perfect view of Link's expression as Kanda took his cock in hand and licked across the tip.  
  
Allen reached down between his own legs to touch himself. When Kanda's mouth slid down over Link fully, moving up and down over his cock, Link and Allen moaned in unison.  
Allen decided, just then, that he really did like watching Link and Kanda together. Liked it a lot. He wondered if they would murder him if he asked to take pictures. Probably. Still, it might be worth asking. Later.  
  
"He's good, isn't he?" Allen found himself saying. Link, who was biting down on his lower lip, nodded tightly, head thrown back against the sheets. "Don't bother holding yourself back, either. He likes it when you fuck his mouth."  
  
Kanda didn't say anything, stubborn in his silence, which was as good as a confirmation. Link lifted his hips experimentally. Kanda took it deep, unflinching. If anything, Kanda seemed to reward him, popping off to lick the sides before sliding back to take him down to the root. Link gasped properly this time, fine, sharp features screwed up in pleasure. He thrusted back up, this time in earnest abandon.  
  
"That's right," Allen panted, fisting his own cock in time with Link's short, shallow thrusts. "That's good. Both of you, doing so —  look so hot, so sexy."  
  
Link came inside Kanda's mouth with a choked-off moan, shivering through his pleasure with eyes at half-mast, gripping Kanda's dark hair with both hands. Allen decided, just  
then, that it was just about the sexiest thing he'd seen in his life.  
  
Alright, well. So maybe he _was_ a bit of a voyeur.  
  
_You learn something new about yourself every day, huh.  
  
_

* * *

 

Standing at the bedroom window, Kanda peeked through the blinds. The sunlight was coming through a little more dimly now, almost murky, backlit by a sky of dark grey instead of clear blue. Curious, he threw the window up. A cool, damp breeze blew in, turning the pages of a nearby novel and provoking Allen to curl up a little more snugly against Link. Seeking his warmth.  
  
At the sensation of cool air over his skin, Link lifted his head from the pillow. Even half-mast with exhaustion, his eyes had a keen, intelligent look to them.  
  
"Looks like we'll finally be getting some rain," he murmured, sounding so pleasantly sleepy that something funny happened at the base of Kanda's stomach. It was stupidly soft, and had him thinking all kinds of crazy things. What was even worse, he felt tempted to outright say those stupid, soft things. Confessions of unbearable weakness.  
  
"Thank fuck," Kanda said instead. He shifted his weight to lean against the window frame, taking in the scent of a brewing storm, the tang of dust and mist.  
  
"Though I suppose this also means it'll be getting quite humid, too," Link added, voice muffled slightly muffled as he lowered his head back onto his pillow. He was frowning, just a little, and Kanda knew in that moment that he was worrying about his hair. Ridiculous man.  
  
"Well, anything's better than the fucking heat," Kanda decided.  
  
From somewhere at Link's side, curled up beneath the thin duvet, Allen hummed.  
  
"Oh, I don't know," he said. There was a gentleness in his voice that gave Kanda pause, one that had the butterflies in his belly fluttering anew. "I sort of liked the heat."  
  
There was a profundity to the following silence. It seemed, then, they were all sharing that same moment; they were all thinking the same thing. Something vague and romantic, about want and need and love sharing the same unmade bed.  
  
The most stupidly, beautifully soft thing in the world.  
  
"It could've been worse," Kanda admitted reluctantly.  
  
He tore his eyes away from the horizon, shut the window, and turned around to rejoin his lovers in bed.

**Author's Note:**

> hurryupfic @ tumblr  
> fuckhowardlink @ twitter


End file.
